Sunsets
by Lindelea1
Summary: Feeling melancholy, I dashed off this little story of the last meeting between old friends. Complete.
1. Sunset

Originally published online in February 2003

**Chapter 1. Sunset**  
  
King Elessar was returning from a visit to Belfalas when word of the accident came to him. The Thain had fallen from his pony and lay in the Houses of Healing. He leapt down from his lathered horse and went directly to Pippin's bedside.  
  
'Ah, Strider, I wondered when you would come.' The hobbit had briefly opened his eyes to greet him, but seemed very tired.  
  
'I hear you have discovered a novel way of dismounting a horse.'  
  
'Yes. I would not advise it. Though it is much faster than the usual way.' The silence stretched out, then Pippin sighed.  
  
'Is there anything I can get for you?'  
  
The hobbit lay so quiet for so long that the King wondered if he had fallen asleep. Then, 'Ah, Elessar, the White City is fair indeed, but it is only cold stone…' The King waited. 'In those darkest days, when all seemed lost, all I wanted to see again was cool sunshine and green grass.' Another pause. 'It is dark, Strider. So dark.'  
  
The King swallowed hard before he could speak. He leaned forward to grasp his friend's hand, and said, 'We will find you some of that cool sunlight and green grass, Pippin. How would you like to see Bergil again? We can go to Ithilien.'  
  
The hobbit smiled, though he did not open his eyes. 'I would like that just fine,' he answered, and slipped into sleep.  
  



	2. Twilight

**2. Twilight**  
  
'Here, lad, come here,' the hobbit whispered conspiratorially. The boy came closer. 'What's your name?'  
  
'Beregorn.'  
  
Pippin nodded, 'Oh, yes, Bergil's grandson. I could use a bit of help, Beregorn.'  
  
'What can I do? Do you want me to get my mother?'  
  
'Oh, no, lad, do not bother her. I smell supper cooking, this would not be a good time to interrupt. Here is what I want you to do. See my chest, there?' The boy nodded. 'Go over to my chest. That's right. Open it up. See that bundle wrapped in cloth? The long one. There you have it. Bring it over here. Now lay it in my lap. Let us unwrap it.'  
  
The boy stared in fascination as the cloth was gently unfolded. He gasped in wonder at the shining sword within. Intertwining shapes of red and gold and the flowing characters of Numenor shone in the sunset light streaming in the window.  
  
'Is this the sword…?'  
  
'Yes. This is the one that killed the troll that would have ripped out your great-grandsire's throat.' The boy stared in awe. His hand caressed the weapon, fingers tracing the runes, hand gently coming to rest upon the hilt. 'Go ahead. Pick it up.' The boy stared, not sure he was hearing right. 'Go on, lad. Test the balance.' He tentatively picked it up and swung it back and forth, gaining confidence with every move. 'You won't find a sweeter blade anywhere in the Kingdom,' the hobbit murmured. He took a few laboured breaths, then spoke again, in a tone of mischievous delight. 'D'you want to know something?'  
  
'What?'  
  
Pippin grinned. 'Today's my birthday!'  
  
'It is?'  
  
'Yes. And do you know what my people do on birthdays?' Wide-eyed, the boy shook his head. Pippin's face was bright with mischief. 'They give birthday presents!'  
  
'They do?'  
  
'Oh, aye. And I have a present for you.'  
  
'For me?'  
  
'Yes. Take that troll bane. It is a blade of Old Numenor. It will serve you well.' Stammering his thanks the boy bolted from the room. His mother soon entered, wiping her hands on a cloth.  
  
'What's this wild tale Beregorn tells me, you giving him your sword?'  
  
The hobbit smiled. 'It is his. I will not need it much longer.'  
  
'Now don't speak so. You are getting stronger every day.'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'You cannot fool an old fool,' he chided, 'especially an old fool of a Took!' At her uncomprehending stare, he chuckled again. 'A very old joke, my dear. Before your time.'  
  
'All right, have your joke,' she said easily. 'I have a very good supper about to come from the pot, and I expect you to eat every bite! I will be right back!'  
  
'I promise not to go anywhere,' Pippin smiled.   
  
She was as good as her word, returning promptly with a laden tray, which she dropped, paying no heed to smashed crockery, as she ran from the room to fetch her husband to ride for the King.


	3. Dawn

**3. Dawn**  
  
  
'Do you know? I heard Merry's voice, clear as ever. I knew it at once though I've not heard it in over a year.'  
  
'What did he say?'  
  
'He said, 'Odd way to ride a horse, now, cousin!' Then I must have fallen, for the next thing I knew old Fargon was bending over me.'  
  
The room was flooded with sunset light. 'Look at that sky!' the King exclaimed. 'I have not seen such a sunset in many months.'  
  
'Is it?' the hobbit whispered. 'Seems so dark.' The King abruptly sat upright and peered intently into Pippin's face.  
  
'Funny, Merry spoke of being surrounded by a great light, even though night's shadows were stealing over the room.'  
  
'How are you feeling?'  
  
'It was dark under the troll,' Pippin answered irrelevantly. 'So hard to breathe. It feels like that now.' He stirred restlessly. 'It is so dark. So dark,' the hobbit murmured. Aragorn gripped his hand. 'I am here,' he reassured.  
  
Pippin turned unseeing eyes in his direction. 'I know you are, Strider,' he said gratefully. 'You were always there in the darkest places. On Weathertop, when we didn't quite know if you could be trusted. Oh, it was dark there. And Moria! D'you remember my dropping that stone down the well?'  
  
Aragorn chuckled. 'How can I ever forget?'  
  
The hobbit grinned. 'Always wanted to know what would happen.'  
  
'So curious,' the King agreed.  
  
'Always was curious. Just had to know… to know…' The smile was gone. 'Thought I had killed Gandalf, you know. Thought we might have just quietly walked through and out, had I not dropped the stone.'  
  
'Peregrin,' the King soothed.  
  
The smile was back. 'Never heard such sweet words as his 'Fool of a Took!' Never was so happy as when I saw him at Isengard that day.'  
  
'Rest now,' Aragorn urged. 'Try not to talk.'  
  
'Try not to talk? Is such a thing possible?' Aragorn laughed in spite of himself. The next words came lower and he had to strain to catch them. 'Thirsty…'  
  
He gave the hand a squeeze. 'I will get you some water.' The hobbit breathed his thanks. He was not gone more than a minute but when he returned, Pippin was sitting up in bed, eyes wide.  
  
The hobbit's face was transformed by joy. His lips were moving, and the King bent close to hear the words.  
  
'So… bright…!'  
  
_Then [Meriadoc] and Thain Peregrin went to Gondor and passed what short years were left to them in that realm, until they died and were laid in Rath Dinen among the great of Gondor… It is said that the beds of Meriadoc and Peregrin were set beside the bed of the great king…  
_  
  



End file.
